A Necessary Evil
by TheSolidOne
Summary: A one shot fan fic. Solid Snake is sent on assignment by the CIA to the middle est to assassinate a great threat to the western world. Set before the events of Shadow Moses.


Taken place before the Shadow Moses incident.

Solid Snake and anything else Metal Gear related are property of Konami and pimp master Hideo Kojima…….

_Two days_, Solid Snake thought to himself as the convoy arrived at the camp. _This guy had better be here._ The dawn was upon him. Empty rations lay strewn under the safety of his guille suit. The spot chosen was elevated from the rest of the terrorist camp, making it a perfect sniping position. He was hungry but he dare not move in the light. These two days would not be wasted.

Snake was grateful that his headband, however tattered it was, kept the sweat out of his eyes in this godforsaken heat. Some of his camo paint had smeared on his face but, at this range, it hardly mattered.

The convoy stopped short of the largest tent in the terrorist camp. As the new recruits emptied out of the old trucks, the sniper team, that had perched themselves in between a small rock formation to the south, started scanning the area for the target. They looked young. All of them had short hair and pale skin. They were all about 25 or so. Just young boys looking to make a name for themselves in this ongoing battle.

_There._ The two CIA field operatives thought simultaneously.

"Lucky charm, confirmed," Snake said in his gruff voice, cursing the target even more because it was hard for an avid smoker to go two days without so much as a puff.

Sean O'Malley was the target. A leader in an IRA cell, he was responsible for more than 50 deaths, both British and American. Two months ago he bombed the US Embassy in England, killing both the US Ambassador and his young daughter. He set up this camp in order to train new recruits in his army of revolutionary madmen. The Middle East was an obvious place to train for them as the locals had no particular love for either England or the USA. Lucky Charm was what the target was classified, a nickname given to him by Snake because of the strange likeness to the leprechaun on the cereal box.

"Roger, Lucky Charm confirmed," replied Snake's partner in crime for the past two days.

The spotter on Snake's right was a good guy, he decided. Sgt. James R. Stevens. Formally of the 108th airborne rangers, he was drafted into the CIA shortly before Snake retired from Foxhound. They had spoken very little over the past few days as all their focus has been on the mission. However, Snake had found out that James had played some baseball through high school and got a full ride to some Top 10 college. After his first semester, Stevens transferred to West Point and then joined the Army after his graduation, as was the deal for a scholarship to the most prestigious military college in the world. After only two years he joined the 108th and cut his teeth in the Gulf War. Stevens had just received his acceptance into the SEALs when the Agency picked him up. He was a little young himself, as this was his first covert mission with the CIA. A little too eager to make a name for himself. Snake felt like an old man as this was far from his first mission, or his last

"Wind, 15 miles per hour," reported Sgt Stevens as Snake made the adjustments on his scope. The Barrett M-82A1 long range sniper rifle was a heavy son of a bitch. At 32.5 lbs., Snake was almost surprised that the target couldn't see it from 1000 meters, but that was his problem. Snake slowly reached to his scope to adjust the range, doing his best math in his head to adapt to the building wind. It wouldn't be the easiest shot but it would have to be clean.

They couldn't hear a thing from where they were except the gunshots of daily target practice from the terrorists in training. Snake peered at the target through his high powered scope as "Lucky Charm" passed the misguided soldiers, giving praise as they fired round after round of their AK-47s. They were no more misguided than the soldiers of Zanzibar Land though. Following a madman's dream. No, Big Boss didn't raise terrorists.

It had been only 6 months since Zanzibar. Snake could remember the look of his former comrade, Gray Fox, as he lay dying from a vicious mine wound. The cold glare in Frank Jaeger's eyes as he bid this world goodbye. An enemy, and yet, Snake's best friend. After the fall of Zanzibar, Snake retired from Foxhound, but the Central Intelligence Agency felt that a man of his talent could not be lost and put him to work as a field agent. Snake, however, had since grown sick of the politics of the so called chain of command. If he had his way, this would be his last mission for them.

"Snake, who's that?" asked Sgt Stevens regarding the tall man who had just emerged from what looked like the food tent. He wore a robe over camouflage pants and combat boots. His beard had grown for what looked years. He looked like the common Muslim terrorist that you would see on TV, except that he let his long hair hang down instead of wrapped up in a turban.

"He looks familiar, that's for sure," retorted Snake, who wished this sortie to be over so he could grab a smoke. "Call base and get visual confirmation. Whoever he is, he looks important." At least that's what it looked like with the entourage that surrounded him.

"Eagle-1, this is Alpha team. Requesting satellite confirmation of the yahoo with the groupies. Over," called Stevens. To him this was as exciting as the bases loaded with two outs in the bottom of the ninth, but to Snake another target was another pain in his ass.

Over at CIA headquarters in Langley, the Intel boys were rerouting satellites over Alpha team's location. Once in place, they went to work on zooming and enhancing the feed, a repetitive action that took a little less than ten minutes. Those ten minutes, however, earned a promotion to whoever led the team to this location. _Holy shit_, thought the computer tech through his coke bottle glasses, _it's him._

"Alpha team, this is Eagle-1. Over."

"I read you, Eagle-1.Over," replied Stevens.

"Mission objective added. 'Tall Man' is one Ali Akbar. Renown and wanted terrorist. You are to eliminate him with 'Lucky Charm'. The terrorist 'Tall Man' takes priority."

"Roger, Eagle-1. Alpha team out," Stevens tried to hide his excitement but Snake could see it. Stevens spoke as softly as the adrenaline would allow, "It's Akbar, Snake. We are going to be the one's who nail that son of a bitch."

"Calm down, kid," came a terse Snake, "You better get those emotions under control. You can celebrate later; right now I need you to focus."

Snake looked at his Tag Heur, just after noon in this unforgiving desert heat. The sun would soon be directly overhead and that would be less than thrilling for both of the soldiers. He thought that Alaska sounded very nice right about now as he adjusted his scope by two clicks.

The two terrorists met at the middle of the camp. The conversation looked casual as laughter was exchanged between the two men. Snake lined up his shot. Akbar had his back turned to him lining the two men up. The wind was still and hot. There had been no sandstorms since the first day they landed in this hell hole, which was good because it would have pissed Snake off even more.

Stevens lined him up. Railing off wind direction and speed along with range. Snake steadied his breathing, readying his finger on the trigger of his rifle. The two terrorists shared a few more laughs as O'Malley lit up what would be his last cigarette. _Just had to rub it in, didn't you asshole. _Snake thought. It made it all the more easy for him to fire. The gun kicked back as the muffled burst sent the .50 caliber round roaring at it's target.

O'Malley hadn't even finished with the first pull of his cigarette when the bullet hit. It hit Akbar at the base of his skull and exploded his head. The bullet, still having velocity, found its second target in Sean O'Malley. It hit him in the right fimir. With the elevation they were at, it hardly surprised Snake, however, "Lucky Charm" wasn't dead yet and they needed visual confirmation.

The guards all looked confused and stared into the distance, not even noticing the deadly bush only 1000 meters away in which the shot erupted from. They might not have seen the muzzle flash from first one, but they definitely saw the second as Snake released another shot from the Barrett, which assisted Mr. O'Malley, a.k.a. "Lucky Charm", into the next world as it found his head.

The rebels opened fire on Alpha team but Snake and Sgt Stevens were up and running to the extraction point at this time and their guns didn't have the range. Snake had his rifle slung over one shoulder as he readied his M-4 for any confrontations they may have as they headed south. Sgt Stevens was also carrying an M-4 and now followed Snake's lead. The extraction point was two miles away and the terrorists would surely be in pursuit after they figured out who would take command after both heads of the camp were now dead.

A two mile run in the scorching desert heat was a trying task for any man and, although they were the best, the two assassins were still just men. They had only made it three quarters of a mile when they heard two trucks flying over the dunes after them. Without looking, Snake reached into his backpack and pulled out a stick of C4 that had been previously rigged with a remote detonator and tossed it over his right shoulder. Snake readied the remote for the bomb and as the lead truck approached within fifteen meters of the incendiary device, Snake clicked the button. The explosion destroyed the truck sending the pursuing terrorists flying from the bed covered in flames.

The second truck kept charging after them and, without warning, Sgt. Stevens whipped around with his gun pointed directly at Snake. "Get down!" he shouted and Snake instinctively tucked and rolled. The barrage of bullets all found their mark finding the grill, tires, and engine block of the shoddy jeep. The terrorists no longer had control of the truck and it careened to the left and started tumbling violently crushing the men in the topless cabin. The two soldiers didn't even look back, their tired bodies kept pressing on as they neared their extraction.

Snake was out ahead of Stevens, who had tripped and fell a half mile ago. As they reached the Blackhawk, Snake swung around, gun raised, to cover his partner. Stevens jumped in and returned the favor, covering Snake as he found his way into a jump seat. The pilot jerked back on the controls and started their 30 minute flight back to the USS Enterprise.

"That was a hell of a ride, eh Snake?" asked Sgt Stevens, trying not to sound too excited again.

"Just a necessary evil, kid," retorted Snake, who didn't seem to be as enthusiastic. "You did good." Granted, two of the world's worst terrorists were gone; Snake felt it was time for a vacation. A long vacation. The golden sands below looked so peaceful from 500 feet. Snake thought how shameful it was that such hate brewed here on a regular basis, but, that's why men like him existed. Stevens though how shameful it was that he couldn't kill them all. All the terrorists that would stand in between people and their right to live. _Bastards,_ he thought silently. He hadn't noticed at first, but half way into the flight he finally lightened his grip on his rifle.

When they returned to the ship Snake retired to his bunk. Many asked about the mission, and, while Snake kept to himself, only speaking when he couldn't find a lighter, Sgt. Stevens went to the gym to release the rest of his adrenaline, going three rounds in the ring with an ensign who happened to be an amateur boxer. The first cigarette was just what Snake needed to calm his nerves. He thought about the limp bodies of his two confirmed kills today. _They deserved it,_ Snake told himself, remembering the charred bodies of the US Ambassador and his 5 year old daughter. But the taking of life was not an easy thing for any man, and Solid Snake was still a man, legend or not.


End file.
